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Sto caricando le informazioni... L' ebreo errante (1968)di Elie Wiesel
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Iscriviti per consentire a LibraryThing di scoprire se ti piacerà questo libro. Attualmente non vi sono conversazioni su questo libro. update 28/8/18 And even as we write and read, here on the internet, Naziism continues to come out of its hiding place to take its preferred place on the stage. And no great surprise to see that even (or especially?) Hitler salutes are ignored by the police, despite being illegal. The reason? Appeasement. '...a desire not to escalate an already tense situation had forced them to hold back.' The police are the grand-children of Nazis too. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/aug/28/german-police-criticised-as-countr... ----------------------------- I discovered after reading this, that Wiesel is a controversial figure. I'm not talking about the anti-Semitic loons or the woman who wanted to join the 'me too' campaign. Rather, within the body of work that stands as 'Lest We Forget', there is much debate as to what his testament means, whether he has betrayed those he writes of, himself included, how his work fits into what others have done. He was the rockstar of the Holocaust preservation, the first to force non-Jewish people to acknowledge the horror. Yet he only managed to do that by watering down what he had to say, a process that started with The Night, his French and then English version of a much longer work written in Yiddish for an entirely different audience. As has been noted by scholars in the field, the watering down process wasn't only about making something that was palatable to the world that was complicit in the murder of millions of Jews. It made sense that a different audience would be presented with a differently written, more culturally accessible work. However, there is also the issue of memory, what a memoir is, at which point it becomes a lie. Much has been written about this too in reference to Wiesel, and in particular his juxtaposition with James Frey on the Oprah Bookshow (whatever that is). For my part, I can understand the impossibility of saying the same thing to the people you are accusing as to the people to whom wrong is done. It is so easy to understand the humiliation as well as the rage. Even the idea of silence, as a major theme. What I find hard to relate to is the mysticism that is fundamental to his interpretations of the world. His rage feels as genuine as his talk of forgiveness feels forced. I can believe whole-heartedly in the one, not at all in the other. This may be entirely my failing. I've never been religiously inclined and the notion of 'forgive and forget' does not sit easily with me. Eventually one sort of forgets. With that comes something which isn't forgiveness, more like a moving on, I suppose, which takes the place of that more noble sentiment. In any case, can one have it both ways? Forget in some personal way, and never forget in some social way which we believe is vital to the prevention of such events in the future? I had the misfortune to go to Berlin's memorial for murdered Jews a few years ago. Full of people taking selfies and having fun. It could scarcely have been more offensive to point of the place. Richard Brody wrote of it: The title doesn’t say “Holocaust” or “Shoah”; in other words, it doesn’t say anything about who did the murdering or why—there’s nothing along the lines of “by Germany under Hitler’s regime,” and the vagueness is disturbing. Of course, the information is familiar, and few visitors would be unaware of it, but the assumption of this familiarity—the failure to mention it at the country’s main memorial for the Jews killed in the Holocaust—separates the victims from their killers and leaches the moral element from the historical event, shunting it to the category of a natural catastrophe. The reduction of responsibility to an embarrassing, tacit fact that “everybody knows” is the first step on the road to forgetting. Why no names, he asks? The victims are shrouded in abstract concrete anonymity, as are the murderers. rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpress.com/2018/08/25/legends-of-our-time-by-el... update 28/8/18 And even as we write and read, here on the internet, Naziism continues to come out of its hiding place to take its preferred place on the stage. And no great surprise to see that even (or especially?) Hitler salutes are ignored by the police, despite being illegal. The reason? Appeasement. '...a desire not to escalate an already tense situation had forced them to hold back.' The police are the grand-children of Nazis too. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/aug/28/german-police-criticised-as-countr... ----------------------------- I discovered after reading this, that Wiesel is a controversial figure. I'm not talking about the anti-Semitic loons or the woman who wanted to join the 'me too' campaign. Rather, within the body of work that stands as 'Lest We Forget', there is much debate as to what his testament means, whether he has betrayed those he writes of, himself included, how his work fits into what others have done. He was the rockstar of the Holocaust preservation, the first to force non-Jewish people to acknowledge the horror. Yet he only managed to do that by watering down what he had to say, a process that started with The Night, his French and then English version of a much longer work written in Yiddish for an entirely different audience. As has been noted by scholars in the field, the watering down process wasn't only about making something that was palatable to the world that was complicit in the murder of millions of Jews. It made sense that a different audience would be presented with a differently written, more culturally accessible work. However, there is also the issue of memory, what a memoir is, at which point it becomes a lie. Much has been written about this too in reference to Wiesel, and in particular his juxtaposition with James Frey on the Oprah Bookshow (whatever that is). For my part, I can understand the impossibility of saying the same thing to the people you are accusing as to the people to whom wrong is done. It is so easy to understand the humiliation as well as the rage. Even the idea of silence, as a major theme. What I find hard to relate to is the mysticism that is fundamental to his interpretations of the world. His rage feels as genuine as his talk of forgiveness feels forced. I can believe whole-heartedly in the one, not at all in the other. This may be entirely my failing. I've never been religiously inclined and the notion of 'forgive and forget' does not sit easily with me. Eventually one sort of forgets. With that comes something which isn't forgiveness, more like a moving on, I suppose, which takes the place of that more noble sentiment. In any case, can one have it both ways? Forget in some personal way, and never forget in some social way which we believe is vital to the prevention of such events in the future? I had the misfortune to go to Berlin's memorial for murdered Jews a few years ago. Full of people taking selfies and having fun. It could scarcely have been more offensive to point of the place. Richard Brody wrote of it: The title doesn’t say “Holocaust” or “Shoah”; in other words, it doesn’t say anything about who did the murdering or why—there’s nothing along the lines of “by Germany under Hitler’s regime,” and the vagueness is disturbing. Of course, the information is familiar, and few visitors would be unaware of it, but the assumption of this familiarity—the failure to mention it at the country’s main memorial for the Jews killed in the Holocaust—separates the victims from their killers and leaches the moral element from the historical event, shunting it to the category of a natural catastrophe. The reduction of responsibility to an embarrassing, tacit fact that “everybody knows” is the first step on the road to forgetting. Why no names, he asks? The victims are shrouded in abstract concrete anonymity, as are the murderers. rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpress.com/2018/08/25/legends-of-our-time-by-el... This book, like Souls on Fire, disappointed me. It is a series of vignettes about Wiesel's postwar travels and his ruminations on the death camps. I think the book is pretty lightweight and could have been better. The subject matter is dark and Wiesel's writing tends to be mystic, too much for my taste. But that's me. Perhaps the subject matter simply requires that. nessuna recensione | aggiungi una recensione
A collection of tales immortalizing the heroic deeds and visions of people Wiesel knew during and after World War II. Non sono state trovate descrizioni di biblioteche |
Discussioni correntiNessunoCopertine popolari
Google Books — Sto caricando le informazioni... GeneriSistema Decimale Melvil (DDC)843.914Literature French French fiction Modern Period 20th Century 1945-1999Classificazione LCVotoMedia:
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I discovered after reading this, that Wiesel is a controversial figure. I'm not talking about the anti-Semitic loons or the woman who wanted to join the 'me too' campaign. Rather, within the body of work that stands as 'Lest We Forget', there is much debate as to what his testament means, whether he has betrayed those he writes of, himself included, how his work fits into what others have done. He was the rockstar of the Holocaust preservation, the first to force non-Jewish people to acknowledge the horror. Yet he only managed to do that by watering down what he had to say, a process that started with The Night, his French and then English version of a much longer work written in Yiddish for an entirely different audience.
As has been noted by scholars in the field, the watering down process wasn't only about making something that was palatable to the world that was complicit in the murder of millions of Jews. It made sense that a different audience would be presented with a differently written, more culturally accessible work.
However, there is also the issue of memory, what a memoir is, at which point it becomes a lie. Much has been written about this too in reference to Wiesel, and in particular his juxtaposition with James Frey on the Oprah Bookshow (whatever that is).
For my part, I can understand the impossibility of saying the same thing to the people you are accusing as to the people to whom wrong is done. It is so easy to understand the humiliation as well as the rage. Even the idea of silence, as a major theme. What I find hard to relate to is the mysticism that is fundamental to his interpretations of the world. His rage feels as genuine as his talk of forgiveness feels forced. I can believe whole-heartedly in the one, not at all in the other.
This may be entirely my failing. I've never been religiously inclined and the notion of 'forgive and forget' does not sit easily with me. Eventually one sort of forgets. With that comes something which isn't forgiveness, more like a moving on, I suppose, which takes the place of that more noble sentiment.
In any case, can one have it both ways? Forget in some personal way, and never forget in some social way which we believe is vital to the prevention of such events in the future? I had the misfortune to go to Berlin's memorial for murdered Jews a few years ago. Full of people taking selfies and having fun. It could scarcely have been more offensive to point of the place. Richard Brody wrote of it:
Why no names, he asks? The victims are shrouded in abstract concrete anonymity, as are the murderers.
rest here: https://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpress.com/2018/08/25/legends-of-our-time-by-el... ( )